Three Moon
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: Goretober day 6: Undertaker. Icy, Darcy, and Stormy run a funeral home.


There is Cloud Tower and its spiraling spires, well known and well esteemed. If one wanted to wander through the forest some ways they would happen upon a smaller building. A structure made of grey stone with iron-cast windows and a thick layer of creeping ivy and thorned briars. A wooden sign swinging in the breeze would tell them that they have arrived at Three Moon Funeral Home. And if they stepped inside they would be greeted by a large iron chandelier with a helping of onyx, black diamond, and obsidian. The place is lit only by candles and wall lanterns containing more candles rather than bulbs. There is a generous helping of dust and cobwebs-particularly on the bookshelves and decorative coffee tables, but a person could reasonably conclude that those have been deliberately left untouched because the standard tables and the chairs are pristine clean. The walls are lined with dreary tapestries some with ravens and others with bats. The carpets are an elegant blue-black damask.

Most people who enter Three Moon leave upon entry. The air of foreboding is quite strong. But it is also an illusion.

It is a love of the macabre and an appreciation of the beauty of and in death that makes Three Moon so esteemed. The fascination with finality that drives Icy to put passion into the embalming process and the eventual funeral rite. It is this same fascination that drives Darcy to create the aesthetics and plan the funeral rites. And it is the same fascination that compels stormy to upkeep the graveyard and protect it.

Together they have Magix's first witch-run funeral home.

It isn't a profession that she has thought of for herself, at least not as much as Darcy has, but it suits her more than fine and she finds that it fills her time well. It is an art in its own right and the body on the table is, in some sense, a blank canvas.

Death isn't always pretty to view, not naturally. It is her job to make it so. Down the hall, she can hear Darcy discussing which caskets will look good coupled with which floral arrangements. And outside, she imagines that Stormy is readying the grave for digging.

Icy herself arranges her tools, she must make Aylin look nice again. She has already disinfected the body and reversed, to the best of her ability, the rigor mortis. The most grisly portion has been completed too; the tedious and painstaking task of removing and replacing bodily fluids.

First things first, she closes the eyes and makes sure they remain so with a thin layer of glue. She can't imagine that many people would like to see loved ones open dead and glassy eyes. Neither can she imagine that they'd like to see the jaw drop open. So she carefully threads some suture string through the lower jaw and then through the gums and through parts of the nose before tying it together. It is another less pleasant task, but a necessary one. One that makes the wake a more pleasant experience.

The next part is easier to stomach. Aylin may be dead but she doesn't have to look it. Icy combs her thick black hair and fashions it into a loose bun. Her parents had made mention that, that was how she had worn it to most celebrations. She could use magic but spells wear off so quickly and she feels as though it takes away authenticity, so she picks up a curling iron and one by one, ravels the loose curls around it.

She picks up Aylin's hands and gives the nails a sleek layer of black polish, the sort that contains flecks of silver glitter to be caught under the light. And with just as much attention, Icy sets her hands back down. She begins adding foundation to the skin, particularly heavy in areas where the discoloration is the worst.

At the moment Aylin is a doll. If Icy has any skill, by the time she is finished, Aylin will practically be alive once more. She slowly spreads a helping of bright red lipstick over the girl's once pretty lips and then adds a smoky haze to her eyelids. She is unsatisfied so she redoes the direction and style of the eyeliner and tries out a few more shades of eyeshadow before settling on the third shade. It compliments her hair well without bringing out the pallor that Icy is trying to hide. She emphasizes Aylin's beauty mark.

She takes a step back, viewing the body from any angle she speculates that the family might. She decides that her work is satisfactory. Now all she has to do is wait for the family to hand her their choice in clothing and jewelry.

She hopes that they aren't one of those who decide to switch up the outfit they'd initially shown her. She never cared for re-doing the makeup.

Icy turns the girls palm up and pulls out a tattoo gun.

This is her trademark. The thing that sets Three Moon apart from the other homes.

She calls Darcy and Stormy into the room. She passes the gun to Stormy and turns to Darcy, "whenever you're ready."

Darcy nods. She quietly sets out a circle of candles and insense, lighting each in turn. She closes her eyes and murmurs her incantations. All is still save for the flickering of the candles and it is so for a good while. And then there is a shift in the atmosphere. The candles seem to shift towards Aylin's body. This holds out for a few moments and then the candles burn out leaving behind only faint trails of smoke.

Darcy opens her eyes. "Black Swallowtail."

"What do they mean to her?" Stormy asks from her spot across the room where she has herself propped against the wall.

Darcy shrugged. "Most of them don't tell me."

"Do your part, Stormy." Icy says.

If anything, Stormy's job is the most important. She will mark the girl's palms with protective and warding sigils. And at the center of them she will add the butterfly for a more personal level of protection. Her body will nor fall prey to attempts at necromancy. It won't be easy to possess either.

"A safe journey to you, Aylin." Icy murmurs in the tongue of elder witches.

"A safe journey." Darcy and Stormy repeat.

And it is done. Done and ready for the wake to begin.


End file.
